


mess me up (no one does it better)

by extasiswings



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: D/s themes, Developing Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Kink Exploration, Light Bondage, M/M, That Night In Berlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 07:16:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19313266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings
Summary: Sometimes, Alex gets stuck in his own head. And for twenty-two years he doesn’t think there’s anything to be done other than to just go with it, ride out the frenetic energy until he’s fixed whatever needs fixing, or until the situation is over, whichever comes first. If he can just control everything, it’s fine. He likes being in control, he’s good at it,he’sfine. It’s just how things have always been.Until Henry.





	mess me up (no one does it better)

Sometimes, Alex gets stuck in his own head. It’s not a conscious thing, it’s just that when he’s stressed, when the world is too much and problems are too big, his brain kicks into overdrive, wanting to help. As if working harder, faster, doing more will solve everything, even if in the end the reality is he’s just one person and there are only so many hours in the day and he can only do so much. 

At fifteen, June calls him a workaholic and he laughs it off. At eighteen, during his freshman year, he accidentally forgets dates with Nora because he’s fallen down one rabbit hole or other, always thinking whatever it is will be a quick detour only to look up hours later to find his phone blinking with texts and missed calls. At twenty, he’s awake at 3AM after five shots of espresso treating a paper that’s not due for another week as if it needs to be done in two hours because he can’t think about anything else, just needs it to be done, needs it to be good, to be the best, and it’s not _rational_ but he just has to—

Sometimes, Alex gets stuck in his own head. And for twenty-two years he doesn’t think there’s anything to be done other than to just go with it, ride out the frenetic energy until he’s fixed whatever needs fixing, or until the situation is over, whichever comes first. If he can just control everything, it’s fine. He likes being in control, he’s good at it, _he’s_ fine. It’s just how things have always been. 

Until Henry. 

Because their first night together, Henry yanks Alex into his lap and Alex’s brain shorts out, all of him going hot and shivery, and okay, yeah, maybe he’s a little into it. 

Naturally, a single data point does not a conclusion make, but then there’s the polo match, and Henry is gorgeous and competent and commanding and fuck, Alex can’t even handle it because all he wants is for all of that to be directed at _him_. And it’s confusing and weird because he’s never like that, but he blows Henry in a tack room and Henry’s focus and leather-clad thumb on his cheek make Alex want to die in the best way. 

(He’s not entirely sure he doesn’t when Henry returns the favor and he doesn’t think about any of the twenty million things he’d been worrying about on the drive to Connecticut the entire ride back to D.C.)

But where he really starts to think it might be a pattern is his birthday, when Henry pins his wrists to the bed and Alex shivers, biting his lip nearly hard enough to bleed. 

Henry pauses then, watching him steadily, and tightens his grip, pressing down just a little harder, and a sound of pure need rips from Alex’s throat despite himself. 

“Beautiful,” Henry murmurs, and Alex isn’t sure he’s really meant to hear it. He certainly doesn’t get a chance to respond, because then Henry’s swallowing him down and everything is white noise and want. 

It’s—strange doesn’t feel like the right word, and different doesn’t feel like _enough_ of a word, but it’s not bad or wrong, it just _is_. Twenty-two years of being in control, of planning and working and clinging to perfection, and as it happens, he...actually really likes _not_ doing that. At least, he likes it when it’s _Henry_ taking control, when it’s just them, when it’s safe and comfortable and Alex knows he doesn’t have to worry because he’ll be okay and just—yeah. 

Berlin is...an experiment. Testing a hypothesis. Alex ties Henry’s wrists to the bed-frame while Henry watches him with dark eyes, kisses every inch of him until Henry is swearing fiercely under his breath and arching under Alex’s hands, and it’s...good. It’s hot. Alex likes it. 

But he likes it even more later. 

“Do you trust me?” Henry asks, pulling the tie between his fingers, toying with it as he keeps his gaze on Alex’s face. 

Alex swallows hard. “Of course I do.”

He flushes when Henry rolls on top of him, weight pressing him into the mattress, and his eyes flutter when Henry twines the tie around his wrists. 

“Is this okay?” 

Alex huffs a laugh. “What do you think?”

Henry’s mouth brushes his ear and it’s an electric shock to the system. 

“I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

Alex goes loose and pliant, closing his eyes as his focus narrows to points of contact, shutting out everything else. 

“Yes,” he sighs. “God, please, Henry.”

After that, he sinks into a haze as Henry thoroughly takes him apart, making him shake and shiver and beg—

_Please, please, please, fuck, Henry—_

_Just a little longer, love, you’re doing so well for me, that’s it—_

After, Henry makes Alex drink water and rubs the circulation back into his wrists and Alex—

His brain is silent. No campaign nonsense, nothing about school, he’s just relaxed and quiet and calm in a way he’s not sure he’s _ever_ been before. 

“I don’t want to go home tomorrow,” he confesses, mumbling into Henry’s neck as his limbs twine around him to cling like a damn octopus or something. 

Henry’s lips press against the top of his head and Alex lifts up to catch his mouth properly. 

“Thank you,” he says when he pulls back, feeling uncharacteristically shy as he meets Henry’s eyes. 

Henry strokes a thumb down his cheek. “For what, darling?”

“For—“ Alex clears his throat and glances at the bed-frame. 

“Anytime,” Henry replies, when further words stick in Alex’s throat. “Whenever you need.”

And what else can Alex do but kiss him again? Until the sky outside shifts from navy to light pink and orange, the sun slowly coming up and filtering in, until Cash knocks on the door and Alex slips out while Henry showers. 

He sleeps on the plane and presses his fingers to the hickey he finds on his neck while looking in the bathroom mirror and he’s just...steady. 

Henry steadies him. 

How wild is that?

Alex takes a picture of his neck and texts it to Henry as soon as he gets off the plane. 

_If Z sees this, she’s gonna murder me. Then who will you have international booty calls with?_

He gets a response almost immediately. 

_I regret nothing. It looks good on you._

A minute later: _Out of curiosity, how do you feel about blindfolds?_

Alex nearly chokes on his tongue. 

_And you call ME a menace._

_...I’m not opposed to the principle._

At first, it’s just a sex thing. But later on, when Alex moves in with him in New York, it’s so much more than that. It’s Henry getting him to eat when he’s gotten lost in his books, hiding the coffee and making him sleep when he’s been awake too long and it’s not an emergency, and yes, taking him apart when his brain gets too loud is part of that, but it’s...care. 

Alex hasn’t ever really been great at letting other people take care of him. Has never really thought most people should want to. But Henry does. And sometimes, Alex finds himself looking across the kitchen table or the living room or their bedroom and thinks, _I’m the luckiest bastard in the world that this man loves me._

Because after Henry, he still gets stuck. But it’s not the same. He doesn’t drown in it and wait for it to pass. Instead, he grabs a lifeline and lets it pull him out. It’s better. Easier. And he can breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, well, this wasn't really what I INTENDED to write. I mostly just wanted to explore the fact that Alex has competence and praise kinks that can be seen from space and is canonically super into Henry telling him what to do in bed but god forbid I be able to write m/m smut, even if not super explicit, that doesn't come with a million Feelings. So...yes. *washes my hands of this* *throws it out into the ether*

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [lover, be good to me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19376404) by [extasiswings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings)




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